


Socks

by james_graves



Series: Hal Potter & John Wick [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 19:42:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17250212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/james_graves/pseuds/james_graves
Summary: "Happy birthday."





	Socks

Hal lives in John’s house, now. It’s much prettier than Aunt Petunia’s, she thinks, and she has a room decorated in blues and pinks and yellows. She has a bed, too, with soft covers that don’t scratch at her skin and a duvet thick enough that she doesn’t get cold in the night.

She wakes up to find John asleep in the chair across the room, sometimes. He slumps heavily and snores a little, but she doesn’t mind. She just pulls the covers back as quietly as she can manage and pulls on thick socks so her feet don’t freeze, and strokes Peter’s nose lightly. John had let her name his dog, and she feeds him in the mornings when John’s still asleep.

Life is nice and quiet and lovely.

“Happy birthday,” says John from his chair and he smiles slowly before he opens his arms for her.

She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses his cheek and thinks he’s the best person in the world.

“Come on then, we’ve got ice cream for breakfast and presents to open.”

He stands without waiting for her and she thinks she’s going to fall but of course she doesn’t, because John won’t ever let her fall. They’re down the stairs soon and he lets her stand on the tops of his feet because the floor is chilled and it makes her just that bit taller, so she can see on top of the worktop if she stretches really far on the tips of her toes.

(Aunt Petunia made her stay outside in snow and rain and blistering wind without socks or shoes but she tries to forget that, because things are better now.)

John brushes her hair through with his fingers absently as he moves about the kitchen with her on his feet, pulling out ice cream from the freezer and too-big spoons from drawers.

“We can go swimming later,” he says, nudging her lightly, and she grins up at him because, seriously, he’s the _best_.

So she eats her ice cream on the floor by the couch and John sits on the floor, too. Peter lays his heavy head on her lap and she strokes his ears because they’re really soft and then John brings in a sack of boxes wrapped in pretty paper. She gets books and comfy socks and fluffy teddy bears and she carefully puts them all next to her, neat and tidy and in order, because this is more than she’s ever gotten in her whole life and she doesn’t want to make John’s house messy.

“Love you,” she grins up at him toothily and he kisses her forehead.

“I love you, too,” he says and she knows it’s true because Uncle Vernon would never let her eat ice cream or sit on his rug or have nice new socks so she doesn’t get cold.

Of course, she messes it all up and she should’ve known that she’d do something bad eventually, just like Aunt Petunia said, and now John is going to hate her-

“Everything is fine. You’re not in trouble. They’re gone now. No one’s going to hurt you.”

He’s speaking, repeating those words, a constant thrum of sound and she wants to reach out for him but she doesn’t, because she’s a freak and a monster and she doesn’t deserve him.

“Hey, hey, hey. Don’t do that.”

She’s scratching at her arms, she realises, nails picking up blood and leaving behind pink lines in her skin. He’s holding her wrists loosely and she wants him to let go, to not touch her, because she’s dirty and she’s going to hurt him now-

She screams and cries and tries to get away from John but he holds her steady, makes her look him in the eyes.

“I love you,” he says slowly, always slowly. “You’ve done nothing wrong. I’m not going to leave you. I’m not going to hurt you. Everything’s going to be fine.”

His voice is deep but he’s scared, she can tell, and it’s because of her.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she can’t stop and he holds her close to his chest and strokes her hair back from her face.

“It’s okay. You’re not in trouble.”

“I’m- I’m a freak, you won’t want me,” she mumbles, remembers Aunt Petunia screaming those things as she makes Dudley’s toys walk or turns her shirt orange because she doesn’t like brown, has never liked it, but John makes her look at him and he’s sad and scared and she hates it.

“You’re not a freak, Hal. You’re my little girl, and I love you. I’ll always want you. I’ll always look after you. This doesn’t change anything.”

She can’t do anything right. “I’m sorry,” she says again.

“It’s not your fault,” he says back and kisses her temple.

They sit there for a while - Hal doesn’t know how long - just the two of them, and Hal’s face is blotchy and red and she holds John’s hand tightly in both of hers.

“I’m a freak, aren’t I,” Hal mutters, voice scratched raw but still certain, still painfully certain in this fact.

“No, Hal. You’re different. You’re different to me and to Mrs Bowler next door and to Annie at school and to- and to Petunia and Vernon. You’re not a freak.”

“But no one else does this!” Aunt Petunia had said so, said she was weird and _freakish_ for it.

“That still doesn’t make you a freak,” he explains plainly. “That just makes you special.”

Hal doesn’t say anything, but she rubs her eyes roughly and John tuts when he sees they’re red and swollen.

“Let’s go home,” he offers, offers to her everything he has because, even though he saw her being a freak, he wants her.

She can’t really remember how they get home, but she has a bath and cleans her face until it’s pink and clean because it was sticky with tears. John reads one of her new books to her quietly, the words pretty and smooth, and plaits her hair carefully as they listen to the music they like. When it’s dark, she writes in her new notebook in her new sparkly pens that she turned six today and that John says she’s not a freak, she’s different and special, and that it has to be true because John’s always right.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognise.


End file.
